Lyrics:

Yeh, this one&ampapos;s for the workers who toil night and day**lf**By hand and by brain to earn your pay**lf**Who for centuries long past for no more than your bread**lf**Have bled for your countries and counted your dead**lf****lf**In the factories and mills, in the shipyards and mines**lf**We&ampapos;ve often been told to keep up with the times**lf**For our skills are not needed, they&ampapos;ve streamlined the job**lf**And with sliderule and stopwatch our pride they have robbed**lf****lf**[Chorus:]**lf**We&ampapos;re the first ones to starve, we&ampapos;re the first ones to die**lf**The first ones in line for that pie-in-the-sky**lf**And we&ampapos;re always the last when the cream is shared out**lf**For the worker is working when the fat cat&ampapos;s about**lf****lf**And when the sky darkens and the prospect is war**lf**Who&ampapos;s given a gun and then pushed to the fore**lf**And expected to die for the land of our birth**lf**Though we&ampapos;ve never owned one lousy handful of earth?**lf****lf**[Chorus x3]**lf****lf**And all of these things the worker has done**lf**From tilling the fields to carrying the gun**lf**We&ampapos;ve been yoked to the plough since time first began**lf**And always expected to carry the can